The 42nd Annual Hunger Games-SYOT
by ChocoDeeDee
Summary: When opportunity comes his way, Lincoln Diel will do anything to prove he is the best fit for head gamemaker. Unfortunately for this years tributes, that means they're in for the toughest, and possibly strangest, games to date. SYOT Closed. Still feel free to read and review!
1. Sleepless in the Capitol

It was dark in the cold gamemakers office. A soft buzz was all that could be heard at that time of night. It was not an uncommon occurrence at that time of year. It was a few months from the 42nd Hunger Games and excitement was in the air. A man sat in front of a projector, staring deeply at the image in front of him. A map for an intricate series of caves was displayed. He narrowed his eyes.

"Lincoln?" the man cut off the screen. He turned around and found a silhouette in his doorway. He rolled his eyes,

"Yes Jezebel?" he grumbled. The woman glared at him,

"It's 10:30, go home. I need to go home too," she growled. He rolled his eyes.

"You don't understand, I'm so-"

"So close, you're so close to creating the perfect arena. You've been saying that for the past two months. Lincoln, please go home, you don't need to have finalized plans for another two weeks. Those are just the plans, building won't even start for another month and a half," She looked at the man sadly. Crossing her arms, she moved toward the soft glow of the projector.

"Jez, please. Just go home, technically you're my secretary so you have no reason to be here," he mumbled, waving her away lazily. His hand was grabbed out of the air as he was pulled up from his office chair.

"Lincoln Diel! You listen to me right now. I may be your secretary, but I am your friend first, and obviously you need a good friend right now to stop you from working yourself," Lincoln tried to yank his hand away furiously,

"Jez! How could you? You know this could give me the promotion I've been waiting for!" breathing heavily, he stared down at her. "Jez, please. I need to do this. You know I want to be head gamemaker more than anything else in the world. With Leopold retiring, the jobs is up for grabs in the next year. This is my last chance," He held his breath for a moment, tension evident in the air. Sighing sadly, Jezebel let go of his hand.

"Promise you'll go home within the next half an hour?" she asked gently. Lincoln smiled and pat her shoulder,

"I'll be in bed by midnight," he proclaimed. Jezebel giggled softly,

"Ok, goodnight Link," she called as she walked out the door.

"Goodnight Jez!" he called back and she closed the door. A few moments later, if someone were listening, the beeping of a simulation for various arenas started to play. Lincoln smiled to himself.

"President Holsten will be so proud of me," he declared to himself. He let the simulation run its course as he packed up for the night. No one was going to take this from him. His tributes were in for one hell of a ride.

* * *

Hi everyone!

Thanks for checking out this SYOT I'm creating. For the most part this won't function on a first come, first serve basis. Characters with depth and personality are really the most fun to write and the most fun to see in action. If I have questions about your character and want you to flesh them out a bit more, I will probably message you back and ask. Even bloodbath tributes will get their time in the sun. I'll take a maximum of three submissions per person. The form in down below and on my profile, PM me with your submissions.

Thanks!

Dia

Name: First and last please

Age:

District:

Appearance:

History/Backstory: Detail is appreciated

Personality: Go into detail here. Likes, dislikes, pet peeves, fears, if you have it I want to know it.

Family: Details about relationships and backgrounds please

Friends: A little bit of personality is good

Reaping Outfit:

Any Preparation for Reaping/Games?:

Reaped/Volunteered?:

Reaction to Reaping:

Token?(Optional):

Parade Outfit Ideas:

Training: Where do they spend time? What alliances to they try to form? Ect.

Private Session(Optional):

Training Score(Optional):

Interview Angle:

Interview Outfit:

Strengths:

Weaknesses:

Weapon of Choice:

Bloodbath Tribute?: Be honest

Potential Alliances?:

Predicted Placement?(realistically):


	2. Junk food and Insanity

"You're an absolute nutjob,"

Two men stared up at the simulation which ran on the screen. Intricate series of tunnels were being woven together. Various pockets of food, weapons, and shelter were spawned instantaneously as the virtual tributes ran amok. The office was in no better shape. Energy drinks and bags of potato chips were proof of the sleepless nights spent in this office. Bleary eyed and bleak looking, the two men sat squinting at the projection in front of them.

The man sitting to the left, a handsome fellow with a tall stature, shook his head in disbelief,

"Lincoln, this is insanity! How are you going to build an arena that shifts nightly, AND at your will? How are you sure you won't kill too many tribute by just trapping them? How do you know you won't just bore everyone to death, in the arena and out?" The man looked over only to find Lincoln grinning with glee. Blue eyes bloodshot and sparkling, he turned to the man next to him.

"Xander, you don't get it. That's half the fun! Pick the right cave, you find enough food for weeks! Pick the wrong cave, well, suffocation is a nasty way to go," Lincoln mused. Xander looked back at the simulation,

"By the way, I think the whole mine shaft look to it is just tacky," he teased. A stale cheese puff flew in front of his face.

"You're tacky, and you still don't get it! It's an easy way to get tributes together, just announce there's going to be shift and squish them into a room with no exits until someone dies!" Lincoln waved his arms wildly, looking to Xander to finally understand his genius. Instead, Xander had started to tinker with the design.

"Seriously, what if instead of a mine shaft, we did a series of mountains or something? You could still get in the dreary cave death battles you desperately want, but it'd actually have some color to it as opposed to the doom and gloom of the underground," Xander typed in some coding before it zapped him. "LINK! What the hell?"

Lincoln stared intently at the screen.

"Xander calm down, beside you're not even supposed to be here right now. You're not supposed to see these designs," Xander rolled his eyes at the comment,

"Alright, but please take a shower at some point, it's starting to stink," the only response was a whole bag of stale cheese puffs hitting his face.

"Goodbye! And please tell mom I'm doing fine. I promise I'll make it home for dinner this Saturday,"

"You said that last week," Lincoln rolled his eyes.

"Well I actually mean it this time, goodbye!" With the slam of the door, Xander was gone. Lincoln stared at the screen for a moment.

"Maybe a mining town? No, that doesn't leave enough room for mutts to come into play. It's not that ridiculous thought, I mean, Leopold set one of his games up in a supermarket for crying out loud. Who think sentient cereal is scary? Also maybe I should nix the whole shifting arena idea… That's a lot of money," Lincoln fiddled with the coding some more. With the full knowledge that he was in for a long night, he sat down and sighed. He opened a desk drawer and pulled out a 6-pack of energy drinks. With one last stretch, he got back to work. Maybe he could make the aboveground town and underground cave system work.

* * *

Thanks for coming back! Also, thank you to those who've submitted so far, I've been really impressed with the type of characters that have come in.

Here's a little glimpse at what I've been thinking of for an arena. I may choose to stick with it, I may not. Who knows? I'm just throwing ideas into the wind. The next chapter is just a tribute list, which will be updated everytime I get a submission. In a week or two, I'll put solid deadlines on submissions in order to really start getting into the reapings and the games.

Until then, how do you like these little prologues? I'm thinking of giving Lincoln and his exploits an interlude every once in awhile over the course of the story. What do you guys think?

Keep Submitting! I'll try to respond in a timely fashion. I appreciate every tribute that I get to see and possibly bring to life.

Thanks!

Dia


	3. Tribute List

Thanks to all who submit! I'm sorry if I couldn't take your tribute, but you guys know how it goes. I feel like the tributes we have will make for a fun and interesting games. I hope everyone reads and reviews so this story can grow. I always appreciate the input.

* * *

Current Tribute List:

DISTRICT 1: **CLOSED**

FEMALE: Diamond Jun

MALE: Bright Cutter

DISTRICT 2: **CLOSED**

FEMALE: Avery Maceon

MALE: Hadrian Lionheart

DISTRICT 3: **CLOSED**

FEMALE: Vista Acer

MALE: Aristotle Carrington

DISTRICT 4: **CLOSED**

FEMALE: Adrianne Kript

MALE: Bathyal "Deck" Decker

DISTRICT 5: **CLOSED**

FEMALE: Geneva Watts

MALE: Cedric O'Leary

DISTRICT 6: **CLOSED**

FEMALE: Deidre Woodley

MALE: Ford McCaul

DISTRICT 7: **CLOSED**

FEMALE: Cassiopeia Dawn

MALE: Holz Fäller

DISTRICT 8: **CLOSED**

FEMALE: Cottyn Thimble

MALE: Tatter Cleary

DISTRICT 9: **CLOSED**

FEMALE: Aurelie Winters

MALE: Blake Hanely

DISTRICT 10: **CLOSED**

FEMALE: Leonie Landers

MALE: Truit Ploofer

DISTRICT 11: **CLOSED**

FEMALE: Tilly Pruina

MALE: Barely Ravenwood

DISTRICT 12: **CLOSED**

FEMALE: Min Keller

MALE: Jude Cranning

* * *

Thanks to all for submitting!

Dia


	4. Meet President Holsten

"Mr. Diel, you have a visitor,"

Lincoln's head shot up from a stack of papers. Jezebel stood in the doorway, arms crossed. She turned around, almost robotically, and strut out the door.

The only time Jez ever called him "Mr. Diel" was when someone important was on the other side of the waiting room. Lincoln straightened up in his chair, quickly running his fingers through his hair and straightening his tie. He did a quick desk check,

 _Plans? Put them away. Calendar? Open to today's date, write something in it quick. Projector? On something non assuming. Hide the snacks, hide the drinks, push wrappers into the trash basket-_

"Good afternoon, Mr. Diel," he froze. Heels clicked against the wooden floors, a chair creaked, the door slammed shut.

"President Holsten! Good afternoon, ma'am. I wasn't expecting you-"

"Please, Mr. Diel. We have a lot to discuss," her cold eyes followed him as he turned around and tried to smile.

"What can I do for you Miss President? I have some-"

"Show me the arena," Lincoln was taken aback.

"Um, okay. Hold on one moment here," he turned to the projector and tried to bring up some files, his fingers shaking. Finally, he brought up a giant map. He managed a nervous smile and turned back to President Holsten. Her face was blank, as per usual. A beat passed.

"Change it," Lincoln blinked,

"What was that ma'am?" he asked softly. Her light blue eyes hardened.

"I said, change it," she seethed. Lincoln's breaths started to become shallow,

"O-of course! Is there anything you'd like me to-"

"Scrap it and start again," President Holsten started to stand up. "Oh, and Mr. Diel, do not disappoint me," she started to make her way to the door. Lincoln only sat there, stunned. As she reached for the door handle, she stopped and turned around.

"Who was that at the front desk? Jezebel? Nice lady, that one," Lincoln felt his heart stop for a second. "She's sweet, and what about that brother of yours? Xander? His fashion line is something," She turned back to the door, "Well, good day Mr. Diel. We'll meet again soon, I guarantee it," The door slammed shut, and President Holsten was gone.

Lincoln felt his head start to spin. He put his head down.

 _In. Out. In. Out._

He looked at the projector and the map he'd spent countless nights on. With a heavy sigh, he deleted the file. His hand started to shake as he pulled up a blank document.

He was in for another long night.

* * *

That's President Holsten for you. She won't even pretend to be nice.

Either later tonight or tomorrow afternoon I'll start to put deadlines on submissions. I'd like to start diving into this story by the start of May.

Feel free to leave a review or PM me at anytime! I respond ASAP and am always open to talk. I hope you guys like these little fillers, the real story and games will get started soon.

Thanks!

Dia


	5. Announcing: The Tributes (Part 1)

"Show them again,"

The screen flickered, coming to life. Six monitors were watching the inside of train cars. The tributes were asleep or were at least supposed to be. President Holsten eyed them carefully,

"These two," she pointed to a pair sitting on a bed, most likely talking strategy. The boy was gorgeous by every definition of the word, with peach skin, golden-brown hair and hazel eyes. Though he was sitting down, it was obvious that he towered over his district partner, who couldn't be taller than 5'2". He would make a good victor, if for no other reason than to satisfy the growing number of thirsty capitol women. The girl was, interesting, to say the least. She was pretty, some would call her exotic with her phoenix eyes and black hair, and she was far too muscular for her stature. It was obvious she had trained relentlessly, determination radiated off of her. President Holsten pursed her lips,

"Names?" she called into the back. A poor assistant fumbled with the tall stack of papers,

"The boy is Bright Cutter, the girl is Diamond Jun," Holsten scoffed. Diamond and Bright, she didn't even have to ask to know they were from District One. They would always flaunt their wealth, even when naming their children. As annoying as they could get, she did have some family there, so they were ok. The tributes were strong, and it looked like they would make a good duo in the arena. It was too bad only one could win.

"Next car, who are they?" President Holsten yelled. Papers were harshly shuffled some more,

"Um, District Two I believe. The girl is Avery Maceon and the boy is Hadrian Lionheart," her eyes shot up. Unlike the first two tributes, this duo was fast asleep and nowhere near each other. The camera's peered into their separate rooms and it seemed as though neither of them had a care in the world. Maceon was a familiar name. Holsten thought for a moment.

"Kaden, where have I heard the name Maceon before?" she asked.

"I believe from Clint Maceon, the winner of the 22nd Hunger Games," the boy yelled back. Holsten sighed, Clint was a good man, a little pushy, but good nonetheless. She wouldn't touch him, he was loyal. This girl, Avery, was a bit tall and lanky. It was atypical compared to what usually came out of District Two. She looked strong, though, and would make a decent victor if it came out that way.

The boy was something else. Hadrian, if she remembered correctly, looked just like your normal District Two tribute. He was muscular, it looked like he could comfortably crack a skull in his palm. Appearances could prove to be deceiving though. As he slept, there was a certain air about him that made Holsten pause. She'd have to come back to him later.

"Who are they?" she pointed at the last pair of screens.

"District Three, the girl is Vista Acer and the boy is Aristotle Carrington," Holsten whipped her head to the second screen. She had to make sure this boy's name was just a coincidence and not a reference to the pre-dark day's philosopher. If the people started to know, it would mean a giant headache that she'd have to deal with. Despite the name, though, the boy didn't look like much to her. He was small, the capitol bed dwarfed him as he slept. He didn't look like much, but District Three at times brought in some great underdogs. Those tributes were usually very intelligent. She'd just have to wait and see.

The girl, Vista, could be interesting. If she at all took after her father, she could be a quite something to watch. Lumen Acer's work was well known to capitol scientists and had it not been so valuable, he'd be dead. She was thin but seemed well fed. If she made it past the bloodbath, she could be a fun person to have the talk shows talk about.

Holsten narrowed her eyes,

"How are the other tributes looking?" Kaden quickly showed her the screens of the other cars, simply flashing each one by momentarily.

"I don't think there's anything too out of the ordinary here. It's an older pool this year though, which will make the initial start exciting. Maybe they'll have some personality this year," he joked. President Holsten stared, silent.

"You're dismissed for the night," she waved him away. She could hear papers being picked up and zippers shutting,

"Good night President Holsten," he said as he walked away. The door softly clicked behind him. He knew better than to leave it open.

Holsten grabbed the tablet to her right quickly took control of the screen and the cameras, observing, pondering, and creating some ideas she would give to Mr. Diel. She smirked and continued to scroll through the camera feeds. Only time would tell for these kids.

* * *

Hey guys!

So here's the first round of tributes. I want to thank all of you who submitted so far. There are still open slots left so please feel free to look at the Tribute List and submit! If these slots are not filled, I will just fill them with bloodbath characters.

I want to thank FriBarth, Apollostjames, Tribute00, nevershout and dreamsofghostsandstars in this chapter. All of the tributes introduced in this chapter are theirs and I appreciate all of the effort that went into their forms. Yes, there will still be full reapings and pre-game interactions. I just wanted a good way to introduce the tributes and to tell people if their tributes were selected. To those mentioned above, did you like the brief glimpses of your characters? I took a little creative liberty, feel free to tell me what you liked and didn't like. I also want to thank everyone who has left me a review so far, it means a lot to me! I love talking to everyone and seeing what you think.

Please leave a review and tell me what you think!

Thanks for reading!

Dia


	6. Announcing: The Tributes (Part 2)

"Well Miss Lovette, thank you so much for allowing us a sneak peek at your new fashion line!" A man with bright blue hair blew a kiss at the hologram of a teal haired woman sitting next to him. She caught it playfully,

"Oh Fabian, it was a joy to be on the show! Maybe next time I'll be able to make it instead of being trapped in District One for the reaping," she pouted lightly. The live audience in the studio booed. Fabian tried to hush them,

"Now now! It's not all in vain my dear, you are an escort this year!" The audience suddenly started cheering. The holographic woman blushed brightly,

"That's right! I'll be escorting and helping the District One tributes this year. They've been lovely so far and I cannot wait for you all to meet them!" she cheered happily. The audience cheered as well, only to be cut off by a loud siren. Fabian grinned and jumped out of his seat,

"Miss Lovette, my dear, I'm afraid I must bid you goodbye! The next round of reapings has finished!" Fabian threw his arms up and waved goodbye at Miss Lovette, who giggled before disappearing from the seat. A tall, lanky man with neon green hair ran out onto the stage with two stacks of manilla folders.

"Fabian! My goodness, it has been quite the day. The second set of reapings happened early this year! It looks like District's Four, Five and Seven just finished their reapings and their tributes are currently in the Justice Halls getting ready to say goodbye," the lanky man announced as he sat in the vacant seat next to Fabian. Fabian grinned at the camera,

"Well Donovan, why don't we take a look at the new tributes!" The crown went wild, people jumped out of their seats as Fabian tried his hardest to signal them to shush. Donovan handed his a stack of manilla folders identical to his own. He opened up the first folder,

"Let's start with District Four,"

The giant screen behind them split in two and showed three pictures on the tributes, one headshot and two side profiles. Fabian and Donovan looked back. Donovan let out a low whistle,

"Well hello District Four tributes!" The crowd laughed heartily at the man.

"Dang, what is in the water in District Four? Their tributes are something to look at," Fabian laughed along with the crowd as Donovan scanned their two manilla folders.

"Let's see, the girl's name is Adrianne Kript and the boy is Bathyal "Deck" Decker," Donovan read as the rest admired the two.

"Like I said, what're they drinking over there to make then so beautiful? I'd have to dye my hair forty times to get the same shade of red as Adrianne! And Deck? Is that what we should call him? Look at those muscles!" Fabian leaned back in his chair and started to fan himself gently.

"The shrimp for District Four is delicious," Donovan pointed out cheekily. Fabian visibly perked up,

"You heard it first! The shrimp from District Four is the key to eternal youth and beauty!" Fabian declared. The crowed cheered once more.

"Alright, onto District Five," the giant screen flickered and changed and the crowd 'ooooo'd' in delight.

"Let's see here, Geneva Watts is the girl and the boy is Cedric O'Leary," Donovan flipped pages hastily. "It says here that Geneva does calculations for one of the major power plants in District Five!" he read, very visibly impressed. Fabian looked at the girl now pictured on the screen in disbelief.

"She is not allowed to be smart AND have those gorgeous blue eyes!" he declared. The crowd laughed behind him. Donovan rolled his eyes,

"What I'm wondering is how Cedric pulls off long hair while not looking like a drunkard at noon being pushed out of the bar?" The audience mumbled in agreement.

"Don, some people just have this special gift. Yours just happens to be looking horrible in red," Fabian pat his shoulder gently as the audience snickered. Donovan pushed him off, smirking,

"At least I can stick to a hairstyle for more than two days," the crowd burst into giggles as Fabian looked at him, aghast.

"Mind your manners! Don't we have one more District to look at?" Donovan looked down at the remaining folders.

"Oh yeah! We can't forget about District Seven! They grow the most beautiful mahogany trees. They make great cabinets!" Donovan noted. The screen flickered once more to put up the profiles on the last two tributes.

"The girl is Cassiopeia Dawn and the boy is boy is Holz Fäller," Donovan paused for a moment, the burst out laughing. Fabian looked at him quizzically,

"What in the world are you laughing at?" Donovan wiped tears from his eyes as he tried to give a straight answer.

"Fabian, my old friend, did you ever study the ancient language of German?" he asked. Fabian leaned back into his chair,

"Don, that's a dead language. No one speaks it and I've never studied it," he pointed out sarcastically. Donovan grinned as pat him on the shoulder,

"If you did than you'd know that 'holzfäller' is German for lumberjack!" Donovan burst out laughing again and the audience chuckled lightly. Fabian threw his arm around the bashful man.

"Alright settle down buddy, it's barely 4:30. You haven't even had a drink yet!" he reminded Donovan. The crowd laughed once more. Fabian stood up, taking Donovan with him as the man simmered down from his laughing fit.

"Well, that's all for right now everyone! In a few hours, another batch of reapings will happen and you won't want to miss it! Tune in again at 6:30 for another quick tribute overview on Channel 24's daytime talk show, Free Fall!" The crowd gave the two men a standing ovation as they stumbled off stage, laughing and cheering for the games to come.

* * *

Sorry for the delay everyone! I've been AP testing and I've honestly been so tired the past week that I went and took a long nap right after class. I hope this was worth the wait! Thank you to everyone who submit and a congratulations to the tributes chosen! As always leave a review with what you like and don't. I'll see you again in a few days for the next set of tributes!

Thanks!

Dia


	7. Announcing: The Tributes (Part 3)

"I will never get over how good this roast chicken is,"

Jezebel peered over at her longtime friend, mildly disgusted. Lincoln Diel, in his tuxedo-wearing glory, was cheerfully stabbing his fork into a golden roast chicken. He hadn't moved from the table since they'd gotten there about half an hour ago.

"Link, come on. You're the one who wants to be head gamemaker, not me," she walked over and tried to pull the fork away from the oversized child. Lincoln pulled back,

"I have made it this far, I can spare a few minutes to eat some delicious chicken," he looked and his plate dreamily and continued to chow down. Luckily, the rest of the gamemakers were too preoccupied with their own affairs to care about him. Jezebel pulled him over to two cushy chairs, each with large tablets positioned in front of them. The chairs sat in front of a glass wall, peering down over an array of dummies, weapons, and tributes. It was the tributes second day of training and they were all hard at work,

"You're supposed to be surveying the tributes today. Come on, the computers picked random districts for you to look at in the first hour. I'm just here to make sure you don't have any technical difficulties," Jezebel logged into the tablets and allowed them to load in all the data collected the day before.

"Fine, but I can eat and do my job at the same time," Lincoln pointed out. He had set out a little tray on his lap to hold his mountain of food. He had avoxes start to bring him more food as he got comfortable. Jezebel rolled her eyes,

"It seems like all you do is work and eat. How many chip bags can you fit in your garbage?" she asked sarcastically. Lincoln thought for a moment,

"The last time I counted it was 14, but I could be wrong," he answered genuinely. Jezebel sighed loudly,

"Well, let's just look at the tributes," Jezebel stared at the tablet in front of her,

"District Six, the boy is Ford McCaul and the girl is Deidre Woodley," Lincoln read off the screen. Their profiles had pictures of the tributes and seemed to state basic things: height, weight, district ect. They stated their scores on the pre-tests given to them when they arrived and a few fun facts. It also stated their current location in the training area to make locating them easier.

"Deidre? I think that's her name? Aside from having beautiful curly red hair, she looks like she's having a rough time," Jezebel smiled sadly at the girl down below, who was struggling to build a fire.

"Meh, I don't really know. There isn't much to note in her data from yesterday, so we'll have to see how well she picks up skills during the day," Lincoln wiped his greasy hands on a napkin the proceeded to type up a few things. "That Ford kid though, are you sure he's from Six? He's huge compared to what we usually see from them,"

"I have no idea, but that means he could be a plausible victor. Well, if he makes it that far first. Look! He looks like he's getting the hang of those knots he's working with. I think he has a fighting chance," Jezebel smiled and scrolled through his profile, hoping to find good things.

"Jez, you just like to cheer for underdogs. But you are right, we'll have to keep an eye on him," Lincoln flags his profile, allowing the other gamemakers to see that he is a tribute of interest when they look at his profile. "Who's next?"

"District 8, the boy is Tatter Cleary and the girl is Cottyn Thimble," Jezebel looked down into the training area.

"The boy is cute, or he could be. It feels like life is weighing him down or something," Lincoln tried to get a better look at the kid. He was experimenting with a blowdart, getting mixed results.

"He's adorable, but I don't really think much of him. This girl, Cottyn, looks like she cannot sit still for the life of her," Cottyn was trying to listen to an instructor tell her about throwing knives, but seemed to constantly be fidgeting with the knife she was holding. Her hand was bandaged from accidentally cutting herself the other day.

"I wonder what's up, but that might be useful in the arena. Let's see how her private session goes and then I'll judge," Lincoln declared. An avox took away his plate and set down a beautiful fruit tray. "Want some?" he asked Jezebel as he threw some grapes in his mouth. She shook her head,

"No thanks. Okay, so last on the agenda is District Nine. The boy's name is Blake Hanely and the girl's name is Aurelie Winters,"

"Look at her go! She is killing that plant quiz right there," Jezebel grinned. Aurelie was matching up edible berries with ease on the giant screen. Lincoln looked up skeptically,

"It says here that she completely failed the swimming test and isn't all that strong," he pointed, then proceeded to dig through his pile of strawberries to find the ripest one.

"Strength isn't everything, and why do we have a swimming test? An aquatic arena is a logistical nightmare and you know it," Jez scrolled down Aurelie's profile, trying to find the section on the pre-tests.

"Sure, ok, it's not like they have to fight or anything. Let's look at the guy. He's probably getting some-"

"Link that's totally inappropriate and you know it-"

"But look! He's a charmer, I don't know about hard skills though. He's at the knives station and he's ok at it. We'll just have to wait and see. That seems to be a theme this year," Lincoln types away on his tablet, sending out messages to the other gamemakers. Jezebel smiled sadly,

"I wonder who'll win. I kinda like watching them all train and grow, it's endearing," she mused. Lincoln chuckled,

"Jez you know they can't all win. It's ok though, whoever wins will deserve it. I'll make sure of it. Besides, you still have a few more days to watch them train before the arena, and don't forget interviews!" he reminded her gently. Jezebel peered down into the training hall and sighed,

"Yeah, I guess," she mumbled. Lincoln, sensing her doubts, stands up abruptly,

"They just brought out dessert, come on! They mini key lime pies are amazing!" he exclaimed, grabbing Jez by the hand and dragging her out of her seat.

"It's 10:30 in the morning, why are there deserts out?" Jez asked. The two turned and walked toward the dessert table, as Jezebel tried her hardest to forget all the tributes training below her.

* * *

Hey everyone! Sorry for the delay. I've been working all week and it's been terrible, I won't lie. I'm just getting back into the swing of things with this chapter so bare with me here.

How'd you like this chapter? I'm glad you've been liking how I'm announcing the tributes so far. I promise that we'll get down to business soon, but I just want to make sure everyone has the oppurtunity to submit before I make my decisions. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! (Shoutout to FriBarth for pointing out my terrible typos in the last chapter, thank you!)

Don't forget to review!

Thank You!  
Dia


	8. Announcing: The Tributes (Part 4)

"Xander pick a district or so help me-"

"Hey, you asked me, I want to know all my options," Xander sat crossed legged on the floor in front of half a dozen manila folders. The cream color stood in stark contrast to the blues and purples of the neat and orderly living room. Their presence seemed to throw off the feeling of the room. They were spread out all over the living room floor. To most people, which included his dear brother Lincoln, it just looked like a big mess. To Xander, it was genius in the making,

"I don't see why you can't just pick one of the remaining Districts? I'm sorry you got stuck with 10, 11, and 12 but that's all that was left," Link sat for a moment, waiting for him to say anything. He sighed, then picked up a glass full of some vaguely alcoholic substance an avox delivered him.

"Link, it's not a problem. I'm sorry about the other designers, but I need to know _who_ I'm working with as well as the theme," Xander picked up one of the profiles.

"The tributes need to be ready for the parade in two days. They arrive tonight, tomorrow is all pre-tests and other mumbo jumbo so we can give the world a preliminary overview, and the next day is the parade!" Link slammed his glass on the table. "Xander, we can't take all day-"

"Just talk to me about the tributes. Start with District 10," Xander picked up his copy of the profile and Link pulled it up on his tablet.

"Okay, so this guy is named Truit Ploofer. It says he's sometimes called 'Tru'" Xander stared down at the boy.

"His name makes me want to put him in lace… But I won't. It would just look bad with his really curly hair. I don't even know if I want him yet. It says he likes music? I don't know, what about the girl?" Link rolled his eyes and shifted to the next profile. He went for his glass, only to find it empty. He fiddled around for a moment before his hand landed on a shapely bottle. He picked it up and took a nice, long swig.

"Mkay, the girl is named Leonie Landers," he mumbled, disinterest. Xander's eyes perked up,

"5'9"? Wow, I wouldn't be able to put her in heels. Dang it! Why is her partner so short? She looks strong too, an old-fashioned cowboys theme would've been so much fun," Xander pouted lightly. Link thought for a moment, then flipped back to Truitt's profile.

"It doesn't say his height, but he can't be that short?" Xander rolled his eyes,

"Not everyone can be a giant like you," Something hit his head. Xander looked over a found a cork sitting next to him.

"Very funny, but seriously, I could have fun with 10," Xander mused, putting those two folders to the side. Link visibly lit up,

"Great! So we're done-"

"Nope, District 11. What's the scoop with them?" Xander fiddled with the papers and Link fiddled with his tablet. Link sighed loudly and read with an overly exaggerated disinterest,

"The girl is Tilly Pruina," he grumbled.

"Her smile is infectious! Too bad she's not from 9. 'Amber waves of grain' would look great on her and her dark complexion. I like her," Xander grinned in delight. Link looked up from his tablet quizzically,

"You just said designing for District 10 would be great, and now you want 11?" He asked, obviously confused. Xander waved him off,

"I don't know what I want yet. What's the boy like?" Link blinked, then pulled up the profile, still visibly confused.

"His name is Barely Romanwood," Link took another glug out of the bottle.

"It's funny. He's slightly feminine and Tilly looks like she has some brute strength. The juxtaposition is great! They could probably both charm the pants off of Fabian and Donovan," Xander wrote something down in their files. Link sat up straight abruptly,

"Xander you can't keep those-"

"I made copies of the ones you gave me. The real ones are in my safe," Xander waved off his little brother once again, which only served to further frustrate the man.

"Damn it, tell me next time," Link rolled his eyes and picked up his now empty bottle. "Do you want 12 or not?"

"I would appreciate it," Xander quipped.

"The girl is named Min Keller," Link growled. An avox brought him out another glass. Xander glared at him. Link rolled his eyes again.

"It's grape juice!"

"Sure. Anyway, for someone so young, she looks so sad," Xander frowned slightly. Link stopped for a second,

"It says here she's 15," Xander stared at him.

"She's so small, how is she's 15?!" He exclaimed. Link just shrugged and leaned back in his chair, juice in hand.

"Don't ask me. I don't know what goes on in the Districts," Xander pondered for a moment,

"I kinda want to help her out. Sponsors may just push her to the side since she doesn't look like much. How about her District partner?" Link shuffled for a second.

"His name is Jude Cranning. He's really lanky," Xander frowned.

"I want to help them, but I have no idea how. If I'm honest, I would have way more fun with one of the other two," Link ran his fingers through his hair and let out an overdramatic sigh.

"Xander you have to pick. I have two other sets of designers to give Districts. Not everyone can whip up an outfit in less than two days. Besides, it's' not your job to help them. They have mentors for that," Link took a glug of his drink. He looked up and frowned.

"I forgot this was grape juice. Now come on, I need an answer," Xander picked up the six folders and stacked them on top of each other.

"Let me talk to Melia, then we'll see," Xander stood up and started to make his way to the door Link shoots up from his chair.

"You can't do that! Just pick one! You're not even supposed to be able to pick! Xander-" The front door slammed shut. Link stood there in shock.

"XANDER!" he screamed at the door. His shoulders slumped over. He dropped his glass on the carpet and sighed in defeat. He picked up his glass, which managed to stay intact, and trotted off to his room.

He could only hope that Xander didn't do let anyone see those files.

* * *

AND WE'RE DONE WITH INTROS!

HAPPY DAYS!

In all seriousness though, it's time for the real fun to start! This isn't the last you'll see of Link and co. I plan to let them make appearances throughout this whole story. If you like them, then that's great! If you don't, then I'm sorry. Maybe next time there'll be something that's more your cup of tea? (hinthintwinkwinknudgenudge)

I plan to update fairly frequently, about once a week? Starting next week I'm going to shoot for an update every Thursday. If it's not out on Thursday, then it'll be out within two days. Maybe if I'm extra motivated then it'll be earlier? We'll see.

As always, leave a review please! Let me know what you think, I'm always open for suggestions!

Dia.


	9. In the Districts: 1 and 2

"Are you going to see your parents before the reaping?" Bright looked out, thinking for a moment.

"I went for my weekly visit yesterday. Besides, they'll come say goodbye before Diamond and I leave for the capitol," He sighed, letting go of some tension he didn't know he had. He reached out, brushing a hair away from her faces as she smiled.

"Claudia, when I come back, remind be to buy Ava every toy she could want, and make sure she gets a place in the Academy, or the Masonry school if she wants," Claudia giggles, shaking her head.

"Honey, she's two. When you get back, she still has years before she needs to make a choice," Bright shrugged,

"She'll get every opportunity I can give her. Mom and Dad would never, and probably could never, give her everything she needs," Claudia smiled, leaned in, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Looking around quickly, sprung up from her seat, harshly pulling Bright up from the bench he was planted on.

"Come on! Stop being so glum. Ava will be just fine, your parents can probably get it together long enough for you to come home. I'll make sure she's okay. Besides, today's the start of the rest of your life! We can worry about all the details later, right now, we have a reaping we need to catch. Diamond's probably getting madder by the second," Before he could process what was happening, she took off running, dragging him in tow. Or, well, pretending to. He could keep up easily, but why ruin her fun? She kept him sane, made his life happier, and made Diamond less relentless. What more could he ask for?

The grassy field molded into marble and glass. Skyscrapers and luxury invaded his line of sight, jolting him out of his thoughts. The people of District 1 were rejoicing. Golden banners lined the street lamps as businessmen walked with cell phones to their ears and posh ladies strutted with tiny dogs in their purses. Bright smiled, looking around at the scrambling people, a staple of District 1. He and Claudia walked the smooth streets, allowing him one last chance to relish in the glow of the city. Before long, he spotted a large group of kids waiting in single file lines. Tall men in all white suits kept them in order, but without much care for anything else. The younger kids had extra energy flowing form them in waves. They were fidgeting, playing with each others' hair, pushing each other. Beautifully controlled chaos, he thought for a moment, just like the rest of the District.

"Bright! There you are, Claudia I thought we were going to get here early?" He turned around at the sharp yet low voice. Claudia laughed,

"Lighten up a little Dee, it's your big day! You can relax a little bit, the games haven't even started yet," Diamond, only Claudia could call her Dee without fear of getting maimed, rolled her eyes.

"Relaxation isn't what got me here today. Bright, are you ready to go? Remember the plan, once we say goodbye we need to meet Clyde and talk about strategy on the train," Bright sighed heavily, but smiled and chuckled.

"I know, I know, but don't forget to enjoy the moment. You only get reaped once," he pulled Claudia close and gave her a quick kiss. Diamond gave a tight lipped, but somehow still genuine smile.

"Don't forget to see me off," Diamond pulled Claudia into a quick hug.

"Of course, I need to support my best friend while she chases her dreams. You earned this," Diamond grinned.

"That's right," she let go of Claudia, adjusting her muslin dress. She looked up at Bright, eyes narrowing.

"Bright, adjust your tie. It's crooked. It ruins the suit and makes us look bad, and I know that it was tailored perfectly, I'll see you on stage," with that, she stalked off past the sea of children. Bright looks down at his simple suit in scrutiny before rolling his eyes. Claudia bit her lip,

"You know Dee, always trying to be the best of the best, if not perfect," She turned around. "Watch her for me? You know what happens when she gets too into the games,"

Bright cringed. He knew. He definitely knew. Smiling gently, he pulled her into one last hug.

"Root for me, okay? I'll be thinking of you in there," He asked. Nodding lightly, Claudia pulled away with a small wave, knowing she'd see him again in a little bit. Watching her fade into the crowd, Bright stood a little taller. He turned, and walked into the mass of people without a look back.

* * *

 _They're wrong. Show them they're wrong._

 _Thwack!_

The dummy hit the ground. A spear was aligned perfectly with where the lungs would be. It was a definite kill.

 _I'm not a loser. I am not worthless. I will not lose._

 _Thwack! Thud!_

Another dummy hits the ground. This one had a spear right through its neck, cutting its imaginary windpipe in two.

 _Thud! Thud! Thud!_

One after another they fall, spears sticking in every direction. Hadrian barely gave them a second glance as he kept throwing spears. He kept throwing, they kept falling, each hit in the perfect place to make an easy kill. It was almost soothing, knowing that he hit them in instant kill zones. Throwing didn't even tire him out anymore, it almost felt like a hobby.

Except most hobbies wouldn't have his dignity attached their success.

 _Thud! Thud! Thud!_

 _I am strong, I am prepared. I will succeed._

"Hey,"

Hadrian whipped around, spear poised in his hands. The redhead leaned against the door laughed,

"I swear I can hear thinking from out the door. You're fine. You're not worthless, and you will win," Hadrian dropped his spear, turned around, and started walking away.

"You're not your brother, they can't compare you to him," He stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes bored into the floor, blood pulsing in his veins.

"When has that ever stopped them? You know this, Maxima," he didn't need to turn around to see her visibly flinch. Her full name only came out when she was in trouble. Hadrian stared at the floor, breathing heavily. He heard her light footsteps trailed up behind him.

"You know, the girl that everyone says is trying to volunteer? Avery Maceon? Her best friend died in the games. She gets it too," Hadrian turned around, not daring to raise his gaze.

"She doesn't have to carry the guilt. It was her best friend, not her brother. She doesn't have to live with shame attached to her name. She doesn't have to live with people calling her worthless because her kin couldn't win. She's nothing like us. In fact, she has everything. Her dad is one of the most notable victors of all time,"

"You'll be fine, you've trained every day from dawn until dusk. You can do it," Hadrian felt her hand rest on his shoulder, light and unsure. He looked up. Maxima sucked in a breath, waiting for something. He smiled.

"You know, since my brother lost, you've been the closest thing to a friend I've had. When I get back, let's talk," he decided. Maxima grinned,

"There are a lot of us carrying the same shame, maybe we should all talk," Hadrian chuckled. He might've had the entire district waiting for his failure, but he could prove them wrong. He walked back over to the dummies and picked up his spear. Something was still there though, the small pit in his stomach. His arm wavered every so slightly, as the spear sat poised in his hand.

 _Thwack!_

 _Thud!_

He grinned, the pit vanishing.

 _I will win._

* * *

"Again! Harder!"

 _Aim for the chest, crotch, neck._

"Be relentless! The other tributes won't back down, you need to catch them before they get you!"

 _Come on, a few more._

"That's it! There you go!"

 _You are Avery Maceon. You can do it._

Avery straightened up. The man standing to the side grinned. In front of them sat twelve targets, all with knives perfectly aligned with the bulls-eye. How could they be unhappy with that?

"Hey honey, that's the best I've seen you do yet," Avery laughed as the man kissed her temple.

"Dad, you haven't seen me throw in over a year. I've gotten a lot better since then," The man chuckled,

"Of course! I knew you would, you are my daughter after all No child of Clint Maceon would be bad with weaponry"

And there it was. The stupid, blasted phrase. Everything started to feel tense as those words sunk in. Avery looked up at her dad with a tight lipped smile.

"Thanks Dad, I think I need to go get ready," She turned, only to be stopped by a hand. Blue eyes met green as her father stared her down.

"Don't be like that," Avery looked down and pushed his hand away, only to be stopped again.

"Avery, you know-"

"To be a victor is the highest honor that I can have. Not only does it bring glory to the district, but our family and friends. It makes us, as people and as a district, stronger and better," Clint stepped back. His daughter still didn't look up at him. He smiled sadly, pulling her in for a hug. He felt her sigh, and nuzzle into his chest.

"Honey, do you know why I tell you that?"

She didn't move. Clint stepped back and tilted her chin up, her frustrated gaze boring into his mind.

"I tell you this because I know you can do it. From the moment you were born, I knew you were going to be a victor. You're strong, smart, talented, relentless, and so many more things. You are prepared. No one else in the district, heck, in the country is as good as you. I believe in you, and I know the games will help you become even greater than you already are,"

Avery frowned.

"Dad, I can't be like you-"

"I never asked you to be, and I never will. Each victor is different, but they are all great. You don't need to be me, you need to be you. That's how you win," Clint was beaming, though his daughter still looked pensive. Finally, she smiled.

"Alright Dad, I trust you. Always have. I'm gonna go get ready, I'll see you at the reaping," she said as she started to walk back to the house. Once her father was out of sight, she stopped. Looking back, she smiled. It was her turn to shine. It was her turn to make every proud.

* * *

Hello everybody,

I bet you never expected to see me again!

I promise, i can explain, but I don't know how you guys will feel.

You see, I've struggled with self-esteem since I was small. I've always been a bigger girl. I've always been aware of this and tried to combat it with sarcasm, in an attempt to make my personality bigger than the number on the scale. I've always had a slight hatred of who I am, as a person and as a picture on my desk. I never had anything good to say to myself. My writing was terrible. I couldn't sing. I had no talents, I was stupid etc.

Last spring, it finally caught up to me.

I got so tired of feeling terrible all the time, so I scrapped it all and tried to find who I really was. I took up until now to find me. I needed to find Dia, not the number on the scale, not the scathing sarcastic quips, but Dia, me and only me. And I feel like I've done it.

Unfortunately, in this reckless pursuit, I left everything in the dust, including this.

BUT!

I'm back! And I can't wait to get started again. I forgot how much I loved writing and I how much I loved manipulating and giving characters full stories and arcs. I can't wait to see how this goes now that I have a fresh set of eyes and a new style under my belt.

I'm sorry for the wait, but I hope it'll be worth it.

And I promise this time, I'm staying for good.

I promise we'll get into the real meat of the games soon, but I just know these characters again and give them the justice they deserve.

Much love,

Dia

New, improved and confident for once.


	10. In the Districts: 3 and 4

Sparks flew.

Literally.

Her capacitor was too small to store the charge she needed. Well, not literally. Size had never been indicative of charge. Nonetheless, to say it was infuriating was a gross understatement. She had been working on this model car for months. It should've been easy. All she wanted, at least at this current stage of prototyping, was for it to move via remote control wherever she pleased. She had a fully functioning model car, completely remote controlled up to 100 meters away. Now all she needed was the extra capacitor to hold a charge when the battery ran out so she could drive the car back into its charging station when it's battery ran out. Like her father said, it never hurts to be prepared.

Except it wasn't working.

Vista sighed and ran her fingers through her black hair. There was no way it couldn't have worked. Her calculations were impeccable. They always had been. So then why would the car run for two minutes then stop dead in its tracks? She picked up the model, turning it, scrutinizing its every crevice and crack. Her usually dull brown eyes sparkled as she thought. The battery had the right voltage. She mentally added up the total value of her resistors to make sure they allowed for ample current. Her system was wired in series-

Vista stopped dead in her tracks.

Her system was wired in series.

All the electricity charge just passed straight through the system in one foul swoop. No wonder the car was so fast, all the energy just passed straight through it! Pulling out some pliers, Vista cut some wires and gently rearranged them to test her theory. She set the car down, and picked up the remote control. She hit go, and the car started to move exactly the way she envisioned it. She smirked.

Critical thinking to save the day, as per usual.

"Vista! Don't forget, we need to be at the reaping in an hour. Please remember to look nice," she heard her mother call from upstairs.

"Yes mother!" she called back. She didn't have it in her to sass her mother at the moment. It was just a miracle that one of her parents was around at all. She hit stop, and put the remote down, shaking her head. Maybe if she was lucky, the new head gamemaker would have some new technology to spice up the games. She already knew the past arena's like the back of her hand, even that sentient supermarket from a few years back. The tributes were always so careless, it wasn't even plausible to analyze their actions. Some of them were far too emotional for her taste, especially for being in such a high stakes game. Looking around her clutter pseudo-lab area, complete with random chemicals in test tubes, for the aesthetic but she'd never admit it. Vista grumbled softly. Having to leave her happy place and face the vicious words of her classmates was never fun. They just didn't understand. Logic was almost always the best tool to use, and some of them seemed to have none at all. It was infuriating. However, the least fun things often ended up being necessary. She put her remote in her desk drawer. She could come back to it after the reaping.

* * *

"How did Clint Maceon win the 22nd Hunger Games?"

Aristotle rolled his eyes as he sloshed around his oatmeal with his spoon.

"Brute strength with careful end game strategy. He mostly manipulated tributes into paranoia and then near the end forced their hand by taking supplies and slaughtering-"

"No no no! That was Alexandria Sung of the 21st Hunger Games. Maceon tortured those he found with personalized weaknesses and fears-"

"Which was incredible because no victor before him had ever paid so much attention to their opponents and it was that knowledge that allowed him to win," Aristotle recited from memory. It was one of many he had heard over the years. His father sighed,

" You know that you need to know this. You are going to volunteer one day," Aristotle cringed. He looked down, taking sudden interest in the way his oatmeal was clumping up and how condensation formed on his cup of juice.

"Leo, that isn't this year," he heard his mother say to his father. "He's only 14, he has four years left," He heard his father start to grumble

"Fine. Son." Aristotle glance back up at his parents. His mother, brown eyes glowing, smiled lightly. His father frowned slightly,

"Yes father, I'll go do some target practice at the community center before the reaping," Leonardo grinned at his son,

"Good, your mother and I will go wake up Apollo and Venus, pick up the table before you leave. Oh, and if Wolfgang is there make sure he actually trains with you instead of being a distraction" With that, the hulking man rose and strode out the room. Aristotle stood up as well, only to notice his mother still there. She approached him,

"You're a smart young man. We only want what's best for you. After the reaping, help us gather some supplies for the party tonight. Some colleagues will be over to discuss tribute statistics and make initial predictions," she announced. The boy could only give a tight lipped smile. As she walked out, he shook his head. Throwing the dishes haphazardly in the dishwasher, he walked out onto the grimy city streets. His white marble house glistened in the early morning light. It was so odd among the deteriorating apartment buildings. The contrast made him uncomfortable. It was good to have wealthy parents in District 3, his father being the inventor of the capitol defense system and his mother being the head designer and inventor of Panem's train system, but when he saw the hollowed out cheeks of the street kids he couldn't help but feel guilty. District 3 had amazing technology, but still couldn't feed its citizens. Before he knew it, dirt and grime transformed into steel and gray concrete as he approached the training center.

Despite being for "the general wellness and health of the citizens", Aristotle had always thought the capitol wished District 3 was a career district. Why else would they allow funds for a "exercise center" fit with weapons and a fully immersive Hunger Games simulator? They gave them all this technology, but not dummies. His parents, being the fanatics they were, just made some out of sacks of hack. Instead of training, he would've much rather taken a look into the coding of the systems, but his parents would never allow that. At least, not while he was of reaping age.

"Did your parents go on about you volunteering again?" Aristotle was jolted out of his thoughts by an all too familiar voice.

"Do they ever do anything else?" Aristotle rolled his eyes and turned around to see the shaggy, dark brown hair of his best friend. "Come on Wolf, they've been like this forever,"

"You know, if I accidentally run an electric current through the punch bowl-"

"You can't do that, sugar doesn't conduct electricity. You'd have to add salt and everyone would notice and that's not to mention HOW you get a current through the bowl without wires connecting it to some sort of energy source and-"

"Your dad would murder me for ruining his year Hunger Games party," Wolf grinned. Aristotle perked up, and smirked,

"It's all fun and games until you die and I'm the only one at your funeral-" he laughed.

"Hey! People like me too you know! You're not the charm of this duo," Wolf pouted. Aristotle couldn't help but chuckle.

"Course not, we're icons," Aristotle quipped back at him. He thought for a moment,

"You know, father did say that if you were here to make sure you actually trained instead of being a distraction," Wolf gasped, eyes bulging out of his head,

"ME? I would NEVER be a DISTRACTION to your valuable Hunger Games training!" Wolf grinned as he slapped a hand over his heart in feigned shock. Aristotle shook his head, walking over to the rack of knives.

"If you put half as much thought into math and science as you did pranks you could be unstoppable," Wolf walked over to the rack, scoffing

"That's what all you genius kids say. I'm happy where I am," he put his hand on Aristotle's shoulder,

"I should actually do some training before my parents find out," Aristotle picked up the knife and flung it at the dummy. It missed. Wolf's cocky demeanor melted away. Worry clouded his eyes

"They do know that kids like you and me will never be those careers? They're huge, we're just not," Aristotle just shrugged.

"It won't stop them from trying. Maybe I can talk them out of it before I turn 18. Besides, if I go into the arena at least I'll have my knowledge to help me. Who else memorizes critical plays of the games?" Wolf strained a smile at his best friend.

"Let's not talk about that," Aristotle held out a knife. Wolf looked at him, confused. Aristotle grinned.

"First one to land a hit buys the other ice cream," a sparkle appeared in Wolf's eye.

"Oh, it's on,"

* * *

The sun glistened on the oceans waves. The gentle sea breeze floated through her bright red hair, tickling her skin. Adrianne sat on the coastline, closed her eyes, and breathed in the salty sea air. Despite having lived there her whole life, District 4 was still breath taking to her. The hidden pockets of untouched beach glowed every morning. The bustling cities were lively without being crowded, or polluted. The people were happy. It was beautiful.

.

.

.

.

"So, do you like jazz?"

Aaaaaaaand the moment was gone.

One of her eyes popped open. From a few feet away, she could see her 3 best friends walking across the coast, approaching her. The girl with blonde hair had her arms behind her head, trying to look as casual as possible as her question cut through the air. The other girl, a burly brunette, looked at her confused, while the third, a blonde boy, shook his head.

"Alyson, you've known me for ages, you know what type of music I like," the brunette reiterated. Adrianne could see the blonde girl's cheek turn bright red.

"Well yeah, but I was just-"

"Hey guys I see Addy over there, I'm gonna go say hi," the blonde boy interrupted. The two girls nodded, but remained fixed to their spot as he ran away. Adrianne smiled,

"Hey Jeremy, are they still going at it?" she asked sarcastically. Jeremy rolled his eyes,

"If by 'going at it' you mean Aly is hitting on Kat and Kat has no idea what's going on, then yes. They're definitely still going at it. My sister is relentless" Adrianne couldn't help but laugh.

"They should just be together at get it over with. Can you imagine how much easier it would be without them being dumb? 'Hey Katherine, you look different. Did you do something new today?' 'Well, I'm not wearing make-up, does it look bad?' 'NO!'" Jeremy laughed as Adrianne made fun of their friends. Adrianne smirked.

"Seriously though, they'd be perfect together. They balance each other out," Adrianne mused, a small frown spreading across her face. It didn't evade Jeremy, who put his arm around her shoulder,

"Don't worry, you'll find your perfect match sooner or later. It might end up being a _lot_ later, but they'll appear," Adrianne rest her head on his shoulder and sighed.

"Thanks, maybe once I've aged out of the reaping and we can all stop living in constant fear, then I can find someone," she murmured, more to herself than Jeremy. Gently, she pulled his arm off of her and stood up. "'I'm gonna go home and see my parents before the reaping, find me in line?" she asked. Jeremy nodded,

"See you later!" Adrianne turned around and ran off. She felt the warm sand fade away as asphalt replaced it. The sound of seagulls was replaced by chatter and laughter. She frowned. The reaping was a day of celebration, and she couldn't stand it. Floating through the crowd of people that started to form, she arrived at a small house with a prominent oak door. Letting herself in, she peered around the living room,

"Mom? Dad? Are you still here?" she yelled.

"In the kitchen," a soft, feminine voice replied. Adrianne ran over and saw her mother standing over the sink, washing dishes. Her father was sitting at the table doing a crossword. She walked to her dad and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Her turned to her and smiled,

"Addy, my dear darling daughter, I came up with a new joke," he beamed. Adrianne and her mother couldn't stop the groans from leaving their mouths,

"Dad-"

"Anderson, you-"

"Just you wait ladies! I think this is my best one yet," Adrianne rolled her eyes, but her smile didn't fade.

"Alright Dad, hit me," Anderson grinned and rolled his shoulders back.

"Alright, what day do fish hate?" Adrianne heard her mother sigh, bracing herself.

"What day, honey?" Anderson gave himself a little drumroll, pounding his hands on the table.

"Fry-day!" Adrianne laughed lightly, while her mother only rolled her eyes. Anderson gave his wife an expectant look,

"River, doll, don't leave me hanging," the woman in question cringed.

"It was… great, honey. The best one so far," she lied. Anderson jumped out of his chair and ran to his wife, wrapping his arms around her.

"Doll, I know you're lying to me, but I'll still take it," he murmured, kissing her on the cheek. River instantly smiled and went back to washing the dishes. Adrianne couldn't help but stare and smile sadly. Maybe one day, if she was lucky, she'd get to find the one person who loved her the way her parents loved each other. Maybe she'd find someone to hold at night, and to walk with on the beach, and to be happy with.

"Adrianne, honey, what's wrong?" she snapped back into reality as her mother gazed down at her, concerned. Adrianne shook her head,

"Nothing mom, it's just reaping day," she lied. She tensed, realizing she had just made a terrible mistake. River's usually cheery expression grew solemn. Anderson held his wife a little tighter than usual, he let his chin rest on her head as he grew pensive.

"Mom, Dad, I'm sorry-"

"It's not your fault honey," River reassured her daughter. Adrianne bowed her head,

"I just hope one day that the games end," Adrianne whimpered, suddenly feeling vulnerable. Chair squeaked beside her as the parents sat down.

"One day hell will rain down on the Capitol, you just have to be patient. It might not be now, it might be a long way in the future, but it will happen. They have to pay for what's been taken," Adrianne looked up at her dad as he spoke. His eyes glazed over, as he was suddenly gone in time. Adrianne stood up,

"Honey, go get ready to head into town square. Meet back down here in a little bit," Adrianne nodded at her mother's words and left the kitchen. One day the games would end and everyone would be safe again, just like one day she'd meet someone and fall in love. Hopefully, both those days would come soon.

Adrianne smiled sadly to herself.

 _Everything will be alright. Sooner or later._

* * *

Deck perused the market stalls.

Seafood, seafood, _seafood_.

It seemed like there was nothing on sale that day _but_ seafood.

Deck felt his shoulders tense. He had started to develop a slight distaste for the fishy stuff. It was tough though, being in District 4 and _not_ liking seafood seemed almost impossible. Yet, there he was, perusing stall after stall of cod, salmon, and lobster, and trying not to vomit. Finally, he settled on some nice fried shrimp, after admitting defeat. Shrimp took on whatever flavor you cooked it with, so he was hoping the stuff he bought wasn't fishy.

"Hi Bathyal!" Deck whipped around, scanning the crowd for the voice who called out his full name. He relaxed as he sat it was only Furi, who was bouncing her way over to him.

"Hi Furi! How are you?" he asked, smiling. Furi shrugged,

"I'm alright, I just ran into Brine though," Deck cringed. Furi was, different from Brine, to say the least.

"What did she do?" Furi shook her head and sighed.

"She was screaming. She didn't get the volunteer spot," Deck's jaw fell to the floor.

"There's no way-"

"She missed it by a quarter of a point," His eyes felt like they would pop out of their sockets at any point. That was _crazy._ He'd never heard of the judges going smaller than half points before.

"She's livid, isn't she?" he asked. Furi laughed,

"Well, when isn't she?" Deck couldn't help but laugh at that one. Brine was the textbook definition of intense when it came to training. Furi sighed and shrugged,

"How are you feeling? You're not… too sad? Are you?" the pair started to walk away from the market stalls and onto the long strip of white beach. Deck shrugged,

"Kind of? It's always a hard day," he decided out loud. Furi pat his shoulder gently,

"Hoist was a nice guy-"

"I remember that, you remember that, but all anyone else remembers is a boy who begged for mercy and didn't kill anyone," the sea tickled his feet. He jumped back at the sensation, lost in his own mind. He hadn't noticed that they had stopped walking.

"Hey, it's alright, he's still in our hearts," Furi smiled up at him reassuringly. Deck looked out at the clear blue sea, pensive again.

"Furi, someday's I'm not because he's gone, I'm sad because everyone refuses to remember him. They haven't said his name since he died last year, and that's not fair. He worked hard, they all always work hard," He thought out loud. His whole body started to tense, his usually happy demeanor disappearing.

"Deck, come back," Furi's voiced floated in the back of his mind. He looked back at her, hair flowing in the wind. She had both hands on his shoulders, shaking him gently. He shook his head,

"Sorry, I had a moment there," Furi just smiled.

"It's fine, I just wanted to make sure you didn't get too wrapped up in your thoughts before your big day," Furi reassured him. Deck looked at her quizzically

"Furi, I thought you hated the games?" he asked quietly. Talking badly about the games in public was a dangerous bargain to make. Furi simply shrugged,

"I'm not a fan of violence. I understand the importance, I just feel the execution is not well done," she explained. "Besides, what kind of friend would I be if I didn't support you?" Dack grinned down at her.

"Thank you, it means a lot to me," he replied, giving her a hug. Furi, despite not being the most popular among his other friends, was great. Furi laughed,

"Of course! Now let's go, it's almost time to be in town square," she pulled away from and bounced off. Deck chased after her. It was almost his time to shine after all.

* * *

Hello folks!

I loved writing these snippets, but I'm always nervous to see how people respond to my characters. Since these characters weren't of my own creation, I'm always worried I'm not fleshing them out enough or giving them enough time in the sun. That's the main goal of these chapters, to explore characters and gauge their reception from both me and you guys. Oh well, we'll see!

I have to say, I forgot how much I loved every single tribute I got. I don't know how I'm gonna pick who to kill when. This is gonna hurt me.

On that note! Please leave a review on what you think! I'm always happy to hear constructive criticism and your likes and dislikes. I'm getting back into the game, but I can't help but feel a little rusty in some departments. Let me know.

Much Love,

Dia


	11. In the Districts: 5

The gentle buzzing was soothing.

To almost anyone else it would've been a sign of impending doom, but in her line of work, it was a sign that everything was working correctly. Well, it could've also been a sign of impending doom, but that's a chance that you have to take when working in a power plant. The gentle click clack of the keyboard served as a harmony to the gentle buzz in her office, creating her favorite song of all. A song of harmony, a song of mathematical genius, a song of security.

"JENNY! WHERE ARE TODAY'S POWER ALLOTMENTS?"

'Jenny' couldn't help but cringe at the misnomer. The door flew open,

"We were supposed to be done HALF AN HOUR AGO! What the HELL is going ON?"

Angry stomps flooded her office, the gentle buzz suddenly nowhere to be found. She took a breath, bracing herself. Turning around, she found the portly man she'd unwillingly grown to despise,

"Kail, I had to run the calculations again-"

"Why? I thought they told me you were the best in the business,"

She winced.

That one actually hurt.

Taking another deep breath, she stared the man down, literally. He stood several inches shorter than her 5'6" frame. Summoning all the courage in her body, she sighed. Straightening her shoulders and standing a little taller, she announced

"I'm sorry. The need for power has been growing at an exponential rate. I had to make sure that I wasn't making a mistake," The man snorted.

"Get on with it then. I want to be out of here by 6," 'Jenny' started to speak, but Kail had already unceremoniously turned around and stalked off.

"Kail! Wait! My name is-"

SLAM

"... Geneva," she mumbled, more to herself now that the door had been closed. Slumping her shoulders, she ran her fingers through her long, blonde hair. Her last hair tie had broken about an hour ago. The pens and pencils which usually called the hairband home scattered across the office floor. Some of them sat, broken and cracked, as Kail had stomped on them in his fury.

Kail was her boss, but that didn't mean she had to like him. She had been working at the factory, the largest and most efficient power plant in the entirety of District 5, and, frankly, the entirety of Panem, for a little over 7 years. Despite this, it felt like every time Geneva saw him, he found a new way to butcher her name. 'Jewel' and 'Jessica' and 'Jenny' and 'Gia' and 'Ginny' and countless other snide nicknames were thrown in her face on a daily basis. Daily, sometime between 4:30 and 5:30, he'd barge into her office and demand the days' numbers. Usually, she'd already put them in the system while he was lounging about. Today was the day, the single day in the 7+ years she had worked at the plant, that she was late with her numbers. One day out of 7 years. She was on time 99.961% of the time, but the one day, the .039% of the time she was late, she was yelled at as though it was a daily occurrence. The real daily occurrence was Kail not doing anything, and yelling at innocent workers to do his job for him.

Shaking her head, she let the gentle click clack of the keyboard comfort her once more. She couldn't let Kail bother her again. She had a good job, a well paying one at that, and the people she loved were alive and healthy. She smiled, her happy demeanor returning. Sitting down, she stared at her screen, trying to figure out where she had left off. The gentle buzz returned to its usual volume in her ears. She squinted her eyes, the fluorescent lights of the keyboard boring into her cornea. If it weren't for the fact that she'd seen the same form daily for years, she would be struggling. It was always that way with her. Numbers made sense. Numbers didn't change unless you made them. They stayed put as she did her work. Letters and words floated and drifted. They wandered away as she did her damnedest to make sense of them. Numbers seemed to behave, letters were out to get her.

Once the numbers were finally in their proper place in the chart, she hit submit. She glanced up at the clock.

5:59 PM.

Well, Kail would be out by 6.

Smiling to herself, she grabbed her book bag and walked out of the office, making sure to turn off her lights as she went. Besides the usual gentle hum of electricity, the plant was quiet. Most people had left half an hour ago, leaving her to wander around the deserted building.

She couldn't help but smile as she made her way down flights of stairs. Another day gone by with minimal issues and good, honest work done. She had even managed to make her way down to the plant earlier in the day. She had waved to all the workers and cheered up some fellows who thought they were going to get in trouble. She had learned of the new, more efficient, oil refining system being used. Walking out the door, being greeted by the crisp, spring air, it put a small spring in her step as she strolled home.

Her sandals bumped against the pavement as she approached the looming villa she called her home. Stepping up to the front door, and wiping off her shoes, she heard a few voiced from inside.

"Kenzie, love, where did you put my rubber gloves?"

"Hanging on the rack, dear" Geneva grinned and walked through her living room into the kitchen. The two, a tall, bald man and a short yet stunning woman, turn to her. The man grinned, ran up to Geneva, picking her up,

"There's my favorite daughter! How was work?" He asked, still holding her a few inches off the ground. She couldn't help but giggle,

"Dad, I'm your only daughter," she corrected, wiggling in his grip. He couldn't help but chuckle at that, and put her down. Geneva dusted off her pants and pulled some hair behind her ear,

"Work was good, another day of calculations," she continued. Looking at her father, she frowned. "Are you leaving already?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry darling, duty calls. Third shift at the plant pays more, so hopefully you'll have to work less," he explained, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. Geneva frowned,

"Dad, you know I don't mind-"

"I know, and I'm so proud of everything you've done," Geneva couldn't help but beam at the praise. "But that doesn't mean I can't do my part too. I'll be back before the reaping tomorrow. I love you," he gave Geneva one last hug, turned around and left. Turning back to her mom, Geneva saw a sad smile grace her mother's sharp features.

"Mom, what's wrong?" she asked quietly. Kenzie shook her head,

"Nothing darling, the reaping is tomorrow though," the realization hit her, despite having heard it twice now. Geneva smiled, and gave her mother a small hug,

"I did some calculations, do you want to hear them?" she asked offhandedly. Kenzie straightened, looking at her quizzically.

"Sure thing honey, you know I'll always listen," she said, the questions in her head threatening to spill out. Clearing her voice, Geneva grinned.

"I have never taken out tesserae, right?" she asked. Her mother continued to look at her, hundreds of questions burning in her mind. Geneva continued, unfazed by her mother's silence,

"Since I've never taken tesserae out, I have no more than the standard slips in the bowl. One from when I was 12, two from when I was thirteen, etc. I didn't take out any tesserae this year, which means in total, I have 15 slips in the reaping. Now, let's make a super unrealistic assumption that the 553 other kids in the district have never taken out tesserae and are all 16 years old. That would mean, in total, there would be 8,310 slips in the bowl. The chances of my slip being drawn are .018%. And that's if I round numbers for ease of multiplication. There are kids who take out 3 to 5 bags of tesserae a year, there are 18 year olds who have done that for 6 years. I have such a slim chance of being drawn. I'll be okay," Geneva stopped, her mother having wrapped her in a tight hug. Little sniffles filled the room, followed by the feeling of tears falling onto her sweater.

"I am so proud of you, of everything you've done," Geneva smile, but her mother still continued to sniffle.

"Thank you mom, we'll be alright," Kenzie laughed lightly,

"I'm your mother honey, it's my job to worry about your safety. Even though you have a job and have grown into a beautiful young woman, you'll always be my little girl," Kenzie mused, smiling through the flood of tears. Geneva laughed once more, squeezing her mother even tighter,

"Don't worry mom, I'll be alright,"

* * *

Smoke.

Burns.

Fire.

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't see. He couldn't feel his own body anymore. The heat had consumed him. Fire flickering in every direction, nothing but an ocean of flames surrounded him.

"Cedric? Cedric, where are you?" He whipped his head around. The voice was desperate, and oh so familiar.

"Mom? Mom, please, where are you? I'll find you! Please, mom!" The crackle of fire was all he heard as the heat dull his senses. His nerves were on fire. His lungs filled with smoke.

"Cedric! Help me!" Rubble dropped from the ceiling, landing on his thighs. The smoke circled around him, trapping him, taunting him.

"Cedric, please!" He couldn't move. He couldn't speak. He couldn't see.

"MOM!"

The cool night air hit his skin. Sweat dripped down his forehead and back.

In. Out. In. Out.

It was just a dream.

It was all it ever was.

His sheets and blankets had been thrown onto the floor, much like every other night. He looked at his hands. They trembled. His whole body trembled.

He let his legs hang off the side of his bed, his feet dangling a few inches off the ground. He let his head droop as he closed his eyes, letting the darkness soothe him for a moment.

It's just a dream. You're just fine.

Finally, he glanced at the clock above his door.

3:57 AM.

Nothing new there.

Hopping off his head, he walked over to his dresser to grab himself a new shirt. Throwing it on over his head, he made his way out of his room and into the hallway, slowly. Ms. Clarence had been having back pains again, she deserved to rest. Creeping his way into the kitchen, he grabbed an apple off the fruit basket, and started sifting through last evenings mail.

For some reason, District 5 was the only district to deliver the mail in the evening. Most people didn't care, they had no reason to. Cedric, however, patiently waited each month for a specific envelope. He let a small smile spread on his face as he felt the crisp, white paper. The rest of the mail was addressed in aging, yellow envelopes. Only a few citizens had the privilege of clean, new paper, but at this point, he couldn't wait as he tore apart the pristine envelope. He found the usual check, but more importantly, another crisp white paper.

My son,

Living in District 7 has its occasional perks. We're never short of wood to burn in the fireplace, we're never short paper to write letters, and we never seem to have harsh winters. The other peacekeepers love it. Besides, the Capitol, District 1 and District 2, they say 7 is the best place to be stationed. The people are generally obedient and the food is good.

They always laugh at me when I tell them I'd rather go back to District 5. They call it a slum, a dump, and other, more impolite things. I don't even try to defend myself anymore, they know my stance, and I won't back down. District 5 gave me the two best things to ever happen to me: you and your mother. Of course, I've never told them that. They don't need to know, they'll always be the same.

How are you? Doing well in school? Ms. Clarence wrote me last month to tell me your piano skills are improving. Is that what you've been doing in your free time? You never told me. I'd love to hear it when I come back to visit. She told how helpful you've been and how great you've been with the local kids she helps. I had to tell her off about the baked goods though. Yes, you're a growing boy, but no one needs dozens upon dozens of cookies lying around the house for no reason. That's just too tempting.

No word yet on getting you to come with me. I put in a special request with President Holstein a few months ago, but nothing has come up yet. She's probably too busy worrying about the new head gamemaker, Lincoln Diel. He was appointed by Leopold himself I heard. I hope he's not as bat-shit crazy as the old hoot. Those last few games were completely insane, but they worked? Oh well, hopefully she'll get back to me soon. Maybe, if all else fails, you can train to become a peacekeeper and I can be your mentor. I'm exploring any and every option I can think of, let me know what you think.

I know that one day we can come back together and be a family again. Something will work, one of these days. I'm so sorry I'm not there. I'm so sorry I can't do more or you. I send you all I can without raising suspicion for myself. I can't wait to see you again. I love you, Cedric. You're becoming a fantastic young man. Keep making me proud.

Love,

Your Old Man

P.S. I managed to bribe Jax to do all my reports for me for the rest of the year, except for one. Isn't that fantastic?

His dad never stopped amazing him.

Every year since Cedric was 12, his father wrote the same postscript at the bottom of the letter that fell on reaping month. Cedric jumped out of his seat and scrambled around the kitchen. Opening and slamming drawers, he didn't care what he had to do. He needed to find it. Finally, in the last cabinet, he saw it. He grabbed the small blacklight and made his way back to the table. He only used the light once a year to save battery. Turning it on, he let the light shine on the bottom of the letter.

P.S. I managed to bribe Jax to take most of your reaping slips out of the bowl, except for one. Isn't that fantastic?

Cedric couldn't help but let the wildest grin take over him. His dad had done it again. He never knew when, he never knew how, but he always managed to get most of his slips taken out of the District 5 bowl. He felt wet trails start to trickle down his face once more. His dad might be in the District, his mom may no longer be with him, but even now they did everything to keep him afloat. The tears streamed, and he just let them fall. He let himself be happy at his usually dark time of night.

One day, he'd have his family again.

In the meantime, he had to sleep.

He needed all the energy he could get to sit through the reaping tomorrow morning.

* * *

Hi Everyone!

So I definitely went a bit crazy for District 5. I just kept writing, and I didn't stop? I honestly try to keep all my chapters a similar length, but this one just spoke to me. It might've been that I just felt super inspired today, or it might've been that I wrote this late at night and I just let words flow until they sounded good. Who knows? I had to separate District 5 from 6 because they were both so long. I'll put up 6 soon, but for now, thank you for reading this chapter!

Thank you nevershout for reviewing, you've been super supportive since I came back and you're just a super great person in general. I'm glad you're happy with how I portrayed Vista, she's definitely going to be one of my favorites to write :)

Thanks to everyone who reads and enjoys! Leave reviews, I want to talk to you guys! What do you like? What don't you like? How was your day? I want it all!

Thank you again! I'll see you guys next time!

Much Love,

Dia


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